ONCE UPON A TIME, a group of CHILDREN were abducted and whisked FAR, FAR AWAY by a figure known as the GREAT WITCH. She told the kidnapped CHILDREN that if they wished to leave their confines and see the outside world again, they were to KILL another and not get caught by the others.
At first, they denied their true natures, the innate DARKNESS that resided in each of them. The kids did not want to believe that they were capable of great EVIL. But slowly, one by one, the CHILDREN perished until there were naught but six left standing.
"We can't let any more of our FRIENDS die," said one CHILD, eyes glimmering with HOPE. "We must stand together and defeat the GREAT WITCH."
And so, following the HOPEFUL CHILD'S lead, the six CHILDREN fought will all their MIGHT. The GREAT WITCH sneered at their efforts to combat her. Thus, the FIGHTING raged on for some time. Back and forth, back and forth.
Then, out of the ashes...
...rose the six VICTORS.
"We've done it," said the HOPEFUL CHILD, "We've defeated the GREAT WITCH! We're free!"
But that was not the end of it.
Upon returning to their ORDINARY WORLD, the CHILDREN discovered a realm of DEATH and DESPAIR. The GREAT WITCH had cast a CURSE upon the land, causing a terrible TRAGEDY to befall mankind. The CURSE remained, and has yet to be broken.
Where are HEROES when you need them?
I wish I could say that we immediately head to our housing accommodations, but we don't. Well, kind of, sort of, maybe. Naturally, we hit a distraction of sorts. En route to a place to rest, I spot something blasphemous and proceed to...politely comment, shall we say, on it. Zachariah, being my tour guide, is forced to sit through it.
"TH-THIS IS THE WORST POSSIBLE THING!" I declare, pointing accusingly at the object of my horror with a trembling finger. "W-WHY IS THIS EVEN HERE?!"
"Milady, surely it is not as awful as you claim it to be." Zachariah sighs, following my gaze with hesitant eyes. "We should at least be thankful this building exists at all, given that the rest of the village is of the medieval fashion. From my understanding, those in the Dark Ages were not particularly fond of the daily ritual of cleansing thyselves."
"NO, THIS IS DEFINITELY THE. WORST. POSSIBLE. THING." I insist stubbornly. How dare he defend such an obscene area?! What's the matter with this crazy knight?!
"Even worse than being berated by Lady Priscilla?" Zachariah inquires, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
"WAY WORSE THAN THAT!" I clarify, wondering what on Earth his priorities were.
"Milady, please calm yourself," Zachariah begs, placing a hand on my shoulder, "it is merely a public bathhouse. Nothing to fret over."
"Are you serious?!" I demand, gaping at the Elite Knight in utter disgust. "There are about a MILLION things wrong with public bathhouses! That's why we don't have them around anymore!"
"I have no idea what you might be referring to," Zachariah admits in a nonchalant manner. "Is a bathhouse not beneficial for us, given that we need a means to wash our bodies? It prevents the spread of diseases and promotes health."
"Obviously, I know that!" I counter, wondering if Zachariah is, for once, questioning my intelligence rather than the other way around. "Look, that's not the issue here! It's the...just...it's...y-you know what, just come with me!"
Frustrated at the knight's denseness, I figure the only way to prove my point is to physically show him myself. And thus, hooking my arm around his, I pull Zachariah up the polished steps and through the high marble archway of the bathhouse. I know that he can easily overpower me, but for some reason, he just goes with the flow. Maybe he has deluded himself into thinking that I see him as a friend and just wants to bask in this moment of bonding or whatever, I don't know.
"There, see the problem now, genius?"
Zachariah stares at his newfound surroundings, scanning every corner for a detail out of place. The mosaics on the floor peer up at him curiously, as though observing him in return. Oddly enough, the bathhouse tiles-both on the floors and the walls-seem to be painting out the same "story" that Endi had told by the water fountain. There they are again, the motifs of various villagers and the shadow cackling from the skies, right before it is slain by the six heroes.
Anyway, back to the bathhouse. To the far left, there is a pair of doors leading to male and female latrines, which do not resemble toilets in any way, although they function like toilets. Medieval latrines resemble wooden benches with circular openings at the top, which feed into underground chutes where waste accumulates. Yes, real classy, I know.
To the far right are two sets of thin curtains, dividing the remainder of the bathhouse into a males section and a females section. Beyond the curtains are giant wooden tubs, presumably filled to the brim with warm water from aqueducts, and maybe soap, if we are fortunate. The only thing dividing the male and female parts of the public bathhouse is a third curtain, just as paper thin as the other ones.
"I don't see anything wrong here," Zachariah announces, not registering my utter distress. "Are you sure this was not a mere jest, milady?"
"Do I look like I'm jesting here?!" I demand, folding my arms across my chest.
"No, I suppose not," Zachariah confesses, laughing lightly at my pouting. He clearly doesn't take me seriously, which makes me all the more irritated.
"It's a public bathhouse!" I exclaim, face flushing a pink hue, "There aren't separate shower stalls for everyone! And it's practically co-ed! Those flimsy curtains can easily tear from any amount of dampness, and then what the hell are we supposed to do?! Multiple girls or guys are just supposed to keep bathing in the same place at once?! That's gross, not to mention awkward and potentially unsanitary!"
By the time I've finished my spiel, I'm left bright red instead of pink, and I'm gasping and panting for air. Zachariah blinks obliviously at my freak-out.
"Seems perfectly fine to me," the knight says casually, glancing over the bathhouse as though looking at the Mona Lisa. "although if it really bothers you that much, perhaps you can work out a bathing schedule with the other students. That way, no two people are in at the same time."
"So am I just to assume that you're fine bathing whenever, wherever, with whomever?" I inquire sarcastically, not amused at how well he is taking all of this information in.
"It matters little to me," Zachariah replies, shrugging. "The accommodations back when I was training to ascend to knighthood were quite similar to this. Judging from your reaction, I would assume that it is not the norm for many others."
"Of course it's not the norm! Why would it be?!" I cry, throwing my arms into the air in annoyance. "No one in this day and age wants strangers waltzing in on them while they're in the middle of taking a bath!"
"Er, milady..." Zachariah pipes up nervously, his eyes focusing not on me, but rather, something behind me. I just assume he's looking at some pretty patterns on the walls and continue talking.
"I mean, what sort of inconsiderate slobs would do that? Strut in, unannounced, to interrupt someone washing themselves? That's such a crime!"
"Milady..." Zachariah repeats, his voice quickly growing frantic in tone.
Instead of snubbing the knight this time, I heave a sigh. "What is it? Can't you see I'm trying to rip apart this shady establishment and expose it for what it really is?"
"Yes, well...er..." Zachariah pauses to clear his throat before concluding his thought. "...it may behoove you to turn around."
"Turn around?" I echo the knight's words in confusion-but of course, wishing to see what the fuss was about, I do as he says. "Why would I need to...oh. Oh dear."
Lo and behold, an Elite has poked her head out from behind the curtains of the female baths. Her dark, icy eyes jab at Zachariah and I, lips pursed into a thin line. I freeze up right on the spot.
What have I gotten myself into now?
The female Elite throws aside the curtain with a flourish, revealing herself to be fully clothed and completely dry, which is a huge relief. (I would have painted myself as such a hypocrite if she actually had been in the middle of bathing!) She glides over to Zachariah and I, wearing her aloof expression and maintaining perfect posture all the while, a battered notebook tucked under her an arm. The girl's wavy, pastel blue hair is swept to the left side of her face, the rest of her locks cascading down her back in a high ponytail. A conductor's baton sticks out from behind her right ear.
Even from a distance, I can tell just how powerful the girl's gaze is. The Elite's sharp, narrow eyes are the color of dangerously burnt sugar, threatening to tip into a dark obsidian. Her pupils seem to pulsate with aristocratic authority and charm behind a pair of thin-rimmed gold glasses. Even the girl's school uniform seems to only emphasize her grace and sophistication. The pale grey dress goes down to about her ankles and sports bronze and gold accents along the hems. Her boots make loud clicking noises as she makes her way across the bathhouse floor.
"Salutations," she greets us, her tone mild and even. The female Elite speaks with a posh, upper class accent. "I see that you are not the biggest fan of this facility, hmm? You sounded rather agitated when describing the faults of a public bathhouse."
"N-No, I'm not," I reply, turning tomato red in humiliation. I had not expected another Elite to have been eavesdropping on my rant.
"Hee hee...no need to be so uptight. Peers have no need to be so formal with one another. Please, address me as Frieda Gatzemeyer. I am a humble conductor of the Loyal Class." With that being said, she bows her head slightly to me.
"I'm Estelle Malgosia. Wise Mythologist." I mutter quickly, for once relieved that I have to give an introduction-it helps distract from my shameful display from earlier. "Er...Zachariah is showing me around the village."
"Is that so?" Frieda smiles mysteriously, a hand cupped over her mouth. Every one of her motions appears fluid and meaningful. "How very gallant of you, Zach."
"Not at all, Lady Frieda!" the knight laughs, scratching the back of his head. "'Tis but all in a day's work! Milady and I are wrapping up the last of our tour now, in fact. She will be resting at the guild soon enough."
"Ah, I see. As for myself, I was testing out the acoustics in this building. The water, of course, helps to deflect sound." Frieda pauses, frowning slightly. "If only there were instruments to play...I think I shall go mad if I continue to wallow in silence. Hearing any sort of tune, even the simplest of melodies, would be nice."
"I wouldn't have taken you to be the type that enjoys loud sounds and music," I note, raising an eyebrow. Seriously, even if she is the Elite Composer, Frieda looks much too...proper to enjoy noisy riff-raft.
"Well, there's more that meets the eye with some people," Frieda replies, chuckling softly to herself. "For example, I was born with impressive hearing capabilities-but you wouldn't be able to tell that from just looking at me, would you?"
"I suppose not," I agree, starting to feel a bit uncomfortable with Frieda's gaze. Her eyes are so dark, I feel as though I will be swallowed up by a black hole if I maintain contact for too long. Even when I manage to look away, I feel the heat of her eyes on me, making me squirm slightly in my spot.
"So, Estelle, if you do not mind my asking...do you find your classmates agreeable?" Frieda inquires politely, peering at my face with those intense eyes of hers. "You seem to get along quite well with Zach, no? After all, he is your guide."
"They're fine," I lie, rolling my eyes at the thought of the weird cast of characters I'd met throughout the day. "And Zachariah is...uh...a special case. A really, really special case."
"Huzzah, I am dubbed special!" the knight cheers, his cheer bouncing off the walls of the bathhouse. Yup, he's definitely delusional.
"Hm...I see." Frieda murmurs, her lips forming the tiniest of smirks. "You're not very honest with yourself, are you, Estelle? Like a deceptive cadence, pretending to be one thing, but slowly descending into another..."
"What is that supposed to mean?" I demand suspiciously, narrowing my eyes at the composer. She is the first student to blatantly call me out on my dishonesty. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to deduce that I'm not finding social interaction fun, but to actually have the gall to point it out to me is another thing.
"The eyes are the window to the soul," Frieda informs me, her deep irises flecked with amusement, "although I have always been gifted at reading others. Lies, truths, feelings...everything can be heard in the voice. It is how the heart whispers to the outside world. I suspect much of my success as a composer to have originated from this ability of mine."
"How blunt of you," I frown, dropping any previously polite pretenses. Why keep up the charade when you're already revealed to not be invested in the game? I decide to shut up after that comment, because I realize that every word that leaves my mouth can be used against me. The Elite Composer will be able to register any hint of frustration in my voice, any smidgen of irritation.
"I do get that a lot," Frieda chuckles, brushing aside a loose strand of azure hair, "but I sense that this conversation must be quite a bore to you. You seem to prefer avoiding confrontation rather than facing it head on."
I stare at the composer in shock-I don't very much appreciate her commenting on my character. What does she think she is, a judge? Off to the side, Zachariah does not seem to sense the rising tension between Frieda and I, for he watches the back-and-forth banter between us like a tennis match. Actually, more like an excited father seeing his child gurgle "dada" for the first time.
"Am I wrong?" Frieda asks, watching me carefully for my reaction. Her dark eyes dance with quiet curiosity. If I run, she wins. If I fight, the argument just drags on for longer than necessary. Essentially, I can't do anything right now.
"I..." At once, my voice trails off, as my eyes lock in on a piece of paper sticking out from Frieda's notebook. Stained a pale brown and frayed at the edges, it resembles the rolled parchments that Nissa and Michael had on them before. "What is that?" I demand, pointing to the damaged sheet.
"Hm? Oh, this?" Frieda fishes the piece of parchment paper out of her notebook, dangling it in front of me as though it were a carrot for a starving rabbit. Words are inscribed into the paper in jet black ink, listing off information pertaining to the Elite Composer. "An item dropped off to me by Thomas. He said something about it being a means of identifying ourselves."
"They're like ID cards?" I venture, staring at Frieda in disbelief.
The universities that my mother and father lecture at take serious security measures, requiring that student ID cards be swiped before gaining entry to any building. I didn't expect we'd be needing them in a medieval village in the middle of a forest-and why paper? It's too flimsy and easily lost. Plastic cards make much more sense.
"Perhaps they are, and perhaps they aren't." Frieda shakes her head, seemingly unsure of the mechanics herself. "Thomas has been running wild and making deliveries to the other students all day. I would assume that neither you, nor Zachariah, are in possession of your own yet."
"That assumption would be correct, Lady Frieda!" the knight cries, affirming her guess. "Let that be our next mission, then! We shall find the whereabouts of Sir Thomas and these strange papers!"
"Where can I find him?" I demand, the mystery of the parchment papers too tempting for me to resist. Now this makes for an intriguing story...
"Well, look at you taking charge, Estelle." Frieda smirks, gently applauding my call to action. "Maybe you can be motivated, after all. Hm, like a violin that simply needs to be tuned prior to a performance..."
"Just tell me where this Thomas guy went!" I sputter impatiently. For every second wasted talking, the delivery boy could be getting farther and farther away from us!
"Straight to the point, huh?" Frieda pauses before answering, "Hm...the last time I saw him, he was on his way to the guild. You can't miss Thomas...he has poofy hair...like cotton candy, if you will, but more pointed."
"You heard her, Zachariah!" I exclaim excitedly, tugging hard on the knight's arm, "Guild, let's go! Show me the way! Chop, chop!"
I don't wait for him to give a response, and start to drag him out the exit. As we stumble down the bathhouse stairs, the knight manages to flash a giant, toothy grin. "Milady, it's quite refreshing to see you so zealous in a pursuit-"
"Yeah, yeah! Just lead me to the guild, Zachariah!" I command him dismissively. The poor guy is nearly on the verge of tearing up from sheer happiness. Oh, my young disciple is all grown-up! She's a big girl who can hold half conversations with strangers now! Such a big improvement!
"Hee hee...farewell, dishonest Estelle," Frieda calls after me in a sing song. She does not seem to mind the fact that she did not receive a formal farewell. Rather, she seems more entertained by my sudden interest in silly sheets of paper. "We will see each other again, I am sure."
Yes, we will, I silently agree, whether I like it or not.
The guild stands out amongst all the other buildings in the village, mainly because of its height. Being a few stories high, the guild towers above the shops and cottages, it's multitude of glass panes and turrets imposing a watch over the area. A clock is embedded into the guild's tallest, central most turret, signaling that it is midday, and that the sun will soon set. The sky is tinged with sunset hues-pinks, oranges, and yellows.
In the medieval ages, guilds were like labor unions, gathering apprentices and masters in a similar craft to work together to make profits and maintain their rights. For us Elites, the many rooms available in the guild make it a temporarily hotel spot. I expect minimal furnishings in our private chambers, as well as beds of straw instead of proper mattresses. Oh, what I would give to lie down in a bed and nap!
But this is no time for rest and relaxation, I think as I barge through the guild entrance, Zachariah trailing behind me. My eyes dart around the first floor, seeking out someone along the lines of Frieda's description. I spot two Elites standing before what appears to be a huge, empty bulletin board, so I rush over to them. They seem to be in the middle of a discussion on the housing.
"Think we can find some goddamn pillows around here?"a girl, the bulkier of the two, is saying.
"I dunno, do medieval villages even have pillows?" the leaner one wonders, only to get cut off by me.
"H...Hello! I-I'm Estelle! Estelle Malgosia! Elite Mythologist from the Wise Class!" I blurt out, slightly out of breath from having sprinted over. I suspect that I must be somewhat sweaty and that my cheeks are flushed from adrenaline, but I couldn't care less-I must find out what those parchment papers are!
"What the hell?!" the female Elite of the pair, chestnut hair whipped back into a shoulder length ponytail, stares at me as though I'm a three eyed alien from Mars. Her nostrils flare in anger. "Hey, don't just fuckin' pop up like that! Gimme a warning or somethin' first!" She yells, sending me recoiling in fear with her raging blue glare. Underneath her open navy blazer, white button-up shirt, and black knee length skirt, well-defined muscles ripple in rage.
"E-Eep!" I squeak, scrambling backwards. "S-Sorry! My mistake!" Out of the corner of my eye, I see a rolled up sheet of parchment paper sticking out of her blazer pocket-but now is an inopportune time to ask about it.
"Ahhh, Johanna, I think you scared her," the pale, scrawny Elite beside her points out. His eyes are a deep crimson brown hue, and he is dressed in a short sleeved, periwinkle shirt and dark pants, a satchel slung over his shoulder. A navy cap with a golden emblem on it is clamped tightly over his hair, which pokes out towards the nape of his neck as voluminous white spikes.
"Indeed, you have, Lady Johanna!" Zachariah chimes in, presumably addressing the female Elite. "She may have startled you, but milady was simply introducing herself out of good will-and you should do the same!"
I think the more accurate phrase would be 'out of obligation', but I tactfully remain quiet. I don't want to get into another argument with the knight-and I most certainly don't want to get berated again by the muscular girl.
"Tsk, whatever. See here, short stuff," the female Elite growls, pointing accusingly at me, "the name's Johanna Zeal, boxer from the Kind Class. Just don't piss me off in the future and we'll get along great."
Again, I'm questioning what the admissions staff at Camelot Academy was thinking when they were sorting students around. Guys, let's put a boxer in the Kind Class! We already have a hunter in there, so why not? She has a nasty temper and likes to pick fights, but beneath all that, I'm sure she has a heart of pure gold! Yeah, that sounds about right. What's next? Oh, a baker? Courageous Class it is for her! We're so good at our jobs!
I find myself staring at Johanna in confusion, wondering what warranted her acceptance into such a prestigious learning institution. Surely they don't reward violent behavior at Camelot, do they? But how else would she get in-by volunteering in soup kitchens in her free time? She's not the Elite Good Samaritan, for crying out loud!
"Hey!" Johanna barks again, her short fuse getting the better of her once again, "the hell are you lookin' at, princess?"
"N-Nothing..." I quickly divert my gaze away from the boxer, only to meet the other Elite's.
"Hi there, Estelle! I'm Thomas Durandal, Elite Courier of the Loyal Class." He grins widely, radiating a sense of eagerness. "Boy, you and Zach have perfect timing! I was just about to head out searching for you guys! Guess this makes my job a whole lot easier, huh?" Reaching into his satchel, Thomas fishes out a few items and places one in my hand, then the other in Zach's.
They are battered parchment papers the color of smoked wood, wrapped up like Christmas presents with bright red ribbon. The very same ones a few of the other Elites had.
"Thank you, Sir Thomas!" Zachariah declares, tearing into his gift like a savage animal. I, on the other hand, take my time to undo the ribbon and smooth out the paper. My name and title flare up at the top of the sheet. "But...what might this be? Lady Frieda said that you may hold the answers."
"Forget it," Johanna snaps, planting her hands on her hips. "this guy knows jack shit about these dumb things."
"That's not true..." Thomas mutters, although he, too, looks somewhat apprehensive about the items. "Ah, truth be told, I just found them piled up on at the front desk of the guild. There was a note that asked someone to deliver them to the corresponding students. It called these things E-Scrolls."
"And you just did what a weird set of instructions told you to do?" Johanna demands, apparently opposed to blindly following orders. "You don't even know who left these here-or how the fuck they know all this random crap about us!" The boxer whips out her own scroll, jabbing an angry finger at a line of information. "Name, title, age, height, weight, blood type, accomplishments, likes, dislikes...hell, even my three sizes! This is written by a goddamn stalker!"
At the mention of this, I pale in horror, scanning my own E-Scroll to see what kind of dirt it has on me. Johanna is frighteningly right-this single piece of paper reiterates just about everything on me, excluding personality and extensive background. I blush furiously, knowing that someone, somehow, got their hands on such personal information.
"I-I mean, it was kind of shady, but it bothers me to leave a task undone, so...I did my job as the Elite Courier and distributed all of the E-Scrolls!" Thomas explains nervously. This does little more than earn the diligent mailman another venomous, withering glare from Johanna.
"Good going," the boxer says sarcastically, "but I still don't get the point of these. Might as toss it in the trash."
"Hey, don't go and do that! I'm sure they're important for something!" Thomas reassures her. "They must be! Why else would there be one for every student?"
"Sir Thomas," Zachariah interjects, glancing up from his parchment with a concerned expression, "does it not occur to you that this is quite odd? Some individual appears to have gone to a lot of trouble for all of this."
"Eh? What do you mean, Zach?" Thomas asks, blinking innocently at the knight's inquiry. The Loyal student seems to be the type to do something now and ask questions later-or perhaps never ask questions at all.
"Let us review what we know," Zachariah suggests, tucking his E-Scroll away into his breast pocket. He begins to slowly count off on his fingers as he makes his points. "Starting at the beginning...
"First, the sixteen of us Elites found ourselves in the forest without any recollection of how we got there, and we cannot seem to escape, despite our many efforts. Second, we find a village that conveniently has everything needed for survival, but the original inhabitants are nowhere to be found. Third, we are handed these suspicious papers that contain personal details by the order of an unknown individual. Are these facts in conjunction with one another not forming ominous implications?"
But no one is given the opportunity to respond to Zachariah's eloquent (and rare) argument. Light-bright, bright, bright light-emits from the knight's breast pocket, practically blinding us. My eyes widen in shock. I know I've made jokes about Zachariah nearly sparkling, but I didn't actually think something like this would actually happen.
I quickly realize that it is not the Courageous student who is shining, but his E-Scroll. Light soon begins to protrude from Johanna's (in her blazer pocket), Thomas's (in his satchel), and mine (in my hands). Confused, each of us pulls out our parchments to find that the jet black ink has transmuted into elegant gold. No longer do the E-Scrolls contain a laundry list of personal information. They now spell out short and concise instructions.
ALL CHARACTERS, PLEASE REPORT TO THE VILLAGE SQUARE. YOUR HUMBLE NARRATOR AWAITS.
"N-No way...No fucking way!" Johanna cries, dropping her scroll on the floor. Shaking in alarm, she backs away from her paper until she slams against the cold walls of the guild.
"The words," I gasp, "they've changed."
"Everyone, settle down!" Carina orders, looming over the remainder of the Elites like a falcon would unto its prey. Mounted on the ledge of the water fountain with Icarus perched on her shoulder, she commands our attention. Without having formally announced it, Carina appears to have become the authority figure for us unstable Elites.
I stand somewhere in the back of the crowd, a little ways away from the others, wanting to quietly observe everything from a safe distance. Zachariah, meanwhile, is frantically weaving his way in and out of various groups, presumably trying to calm down as many students as possible. Nissa seems to be doing the same, waltzing from student to student to place her good luck charm on them.
Of course, every Elite reacts to our situation in a different way, but there is no denying that the overall emotions are panic and confusion, judging from the few snippets of conversation I manage to catch. Carina is having a difficult time getting us to focus on the same thing.
"I wanna know exactly what the hell is going on here!" Johanna bellows, demanding answers from someone-anyone. She doesn't seem to be sure who or what to direct her anger at.
"Yes, it would be nice to have some clarification," Endi chimes in politely, although his voice is dripping with worry. Beside him, Cado nods in strong silence.
"As much as I hate to agree with you low class commoners, I second the barbarians' notion." Lance sneers, his remark punctuated by Mustachio Pete's irritating cackle.
"Dude, take a chill pill," Jaxon suggests, clearly more amused than frightened at our situation. "Anger makes your age faster, ya know? In fact, I think I see some hairs of yours turning grey right now..."
"This isn't the time for jokes, Space Case!" Mana groans, shooting the wayfarer with a look of annoyance. "As soon as I find out who's responsible for kidnappin' us, I'm gonna kick their ass into next week!"
"Hey, I was gonna say that!" Johanna growls, her hands balling into threatening fists. "At least lemme give the bastard a good ol' sucker punch to the gut!"
"Indeed, the time for jokes has long since passed," Frieda muses, but makes a face at Mana's announcement, "but that is not to say that violence should be our next course of action."
"No, let fools go and do that," Lance purrs bitterly, looking upon the two aggressive female Elites with disgust, "and when your bones get broken, I'll laugh at them."
"And I'll loot your corpse when the girls decide to gang up on you for that comment, Lance!" Michael chuckles, earning a harsh glare from the ventriloquist.
"Uh, correct me if I'm wrong, but none of that seems very nice..." Richard pipes up. His voice is quickly drowned out by the others. Thomas tries to comfort the hunter.
"They're just a little worked up, Ricard," the courier laughs anxiously, trying to make the best out of the currently stressful atmosphere.
A little ways off, Ellanora yelps in horror at the discussion. She looks like she will have a nervous breakdown any second now, but luckily, Priscilla manages to calm the statistical down with a soft, flowery pat on the back and a sugar cookie from her apron pocket. Nibbling on the sweet helps to slightly calm Ellanora's nerves.
"Oh, ha ha, very funny, mister! I'll chomp yer face off before you try to steal offa Lance!" Mustachio Pete spits out sarcastically, making the bandit laugh even harder at Lance's own pathetic defense. Honestly, I don't think anyone will take the ventriloquist or that puppet of his seriously.
"Hey, come on! My joke was way funnier!" Jaxon protests, clamoring next to Mana. "Come on, my joke was totally funny, right?"
"Mister Caldwell, please do be considerate to your classmates and respect the predicament that we are in!" Carina warns, throwing Jaxon a sharp glare. The redhead shrinks in silence. In fact, the entire crowd does at the mention of our dire situation, each of us lending the falconer our ears.
"That's better." Carina sighs, regaining her composure. "Now then, is anyone here aware of who might be behind this...this message?"
The falconer brandishes her own E-Scroll before the sea of anxious Elites before her. Her parchment paper, not surprisingly, reads the same as everyone else's. Flowing gold script spells out the declaration from mere moments prior to gathering in the village square.
ALL CHARACTERS, PLEASE REPORT TO THE VILLAGE SQUARE. YOUR HUMBLE NARRATOR AWAITS.
"Words do not just spontaneously change like this," Carina says slowly, "so whoever is responsible for this prank, speak up now or forever hold your peace."
The Elites glance around at one another, expecting someone, anyone, to plead guilty of the crime. Still, no one bothers to confess to it. Hey, all I can say for sure is that it most certainly isn't me!
"This can't possible be." Carina groans, massaging her temples in mild annoyance. "Someone is definitely behind all of this nonsense, they just won't admit to it!"
And then...
...from the skies...
...comes a squeaky, childish voice.
"And just hoo might you be referring to, Miss Arcard? Little ol' me?"
"...Eh?" Carina freezes up when she feels something land on her head. With hesitant, trembling fingers, she reaches up, feeling something plump and feathered perched on her cranium. "Wh-What is it? What's on me?!" She demands of the remaining Elites, who all stare back at her, wide eyed.
I've seen it before, I realize, way back in the forest.
The owl.
"Greetings, children!" the winged creature chirps, spreading its wings out in a friendly motion. It speaks with a grandfatherly, regal tone, despite the high pitch of its voice. "I welcome you to the forest village of Halkyonia!"
It takes me a few moments to process what exactly is going on. An owl-a tawny brown barn owl-with heart-shaped motifs running across its belly, is talking to us. What makes this all the more implausible is the ridiculously gigantic bow tie and monocle that the owl wears while trying to act all authoritative. This can't possibly be happening...
"G-Gah!" Lance suddenly lets out a cry of terror from within the crowd of Elites. All heads turn, followed by a chorus of gasps. Ahead of me, Johanna has seized the ventriloquist by the collar and hoisted him up so that their faces are mere inches apart. Lance's feet dangle precariously in the air.
"Oh dear!" the owl squeaks. It doesn't bother to budge from his perch on Carina's head, despite the quickly escalating violence.
"Listen here, you little piece of shit," the boxer snarls dangerously, "you better cut the crap before I punch your lights out!"
"I...I'm telling you, it's not me!" Lance sputters in his defense, struggling to meet Johanna in the eyes. "I swear, for once, it's not me! I didn't d-do anything!"
"You really expect me to buy that?! Ain't no way an animal can talk on its own, and you're the only one here who can throw his voice!" Johanna hisses, making a surprisingly compelling argument. "What, did you get a sick kick outta seeing us scared as hell?!"
"No, but I certainly get a laugh out of watching you m-making a complete fool of yourself!" Lance bitterly retorts, making Johanna's rage flare up again.
"SAY THAT AGAIN! I DARE YOU!"
"H-Hey, Johanna! Please calm down!" Ricard pleads, attempting to placate the boxer with words. "T-The owl could have a microphone or something in its bow tie. That would explain the voice...and besides, I don't think Lance would take a joke this far…"
"I-It's true! I wouldn't want to waste th-this much of my valuable time on you losers anyway!" Lance cries, saying all the wrong things and only pissing the boxer off even more.
"Yeah? You sure about that?!" Johanna demands, still glaring fiercely at the small ventriloquist. "Cuz this punk is just begging for a beating!"
"Unhand Sir Lance!" Zachariah commands sternly, folding his arms across his broad chest. He looks primed to leap into action if any unruly behavior breaks out. "We have better things to worry about at the moment!"
"...Fine!" Johanna grumbles, roughly planting Lance back on solid ground. She redirects her livid gaze at the owl, quietly fuming. "Well?! What're you fucking waiting for?! Go on, talk!"
"My, my, my!" the owl mutters to itself, shaking its head in shame. "It looks like you kids need more guidance than I thought!"
"U-Um...w-who are you?" Ellanora's manages to ask from her spot beside Priscilla, her pupils dilated in fear.
"Hoo, me?" the owl asks, acting all bubbly and innocent. It leaps off of Carina's head and lands gently on the ledge of the water fountain with a bow. "Why, I am none other your oh-so-cute-and-cuddly Narrator, of course! And as your Narrator, I, of course, know everything there is to know about you kiddies! You may call me Fukushi!'
"What? Narrator? Fukushi?" Priscilla repeats, her face scrunching up in confusion. "I don't quite get it."
"I get that it's adorable!" Nissa squeals girlishly, bouncing up and down in excitement. "Aw, I just wanna squeeze it!"
"It does look like a stuffed animal of sorts," Endi remarks softly. "Perhaps the design would be popular among young children."
"Weirdoes..." Lance mutters under his breath. He shuffles farther away from the illusionist and the craftsman.
"Ah-hem! Simply put, you children are now Characters in the Story!" Fukushi explains, causing my ears to perk up in excitement. Characters? Story? This sounds rather promising...
"More elaboration would very much be appreciated," Frieda prompts when it becomes evident that the owl won't say more without being pressured.
"What more is there to elaborate on?" Fukushi demands, apparently expecting us to understand him right away. "It's very easy to comprehend, my children! You're Characters, and Characters cannot leave the Story! That's that!"
"Wait...we can't leave the Story...so by Story, you mean the forest?!" Mana cries, coming to a sudden realization. "Is that why we kept going around in circles?!"
"Precisely! The Story encompasses the Village area and the Woods area," Fukushi informs us calmly. "See, not so hard to grasp!"
"It's way hard to grasp, Owl Man!" Jaxon counters, finally getting a sense of how serious our situation is. "I got places to go, things to do, and people to see! How am I supposed to do that if I'm stuck in one place?!"
"There must be some way to leave," Carina insists, her cool gaze piercing into Fukushi. "If you are the so-called Narrator of this Story, then you must know an escape route, correct?"
"Weeeell, theoretically speaking, yes! But it's not so much as a route as it is a method!" the owl clarifies, causing the Elites to go into an uproar. Everyone wants to know the secret to getting out. "Alright, alright! Calm down, children! I'll tell you how to escape-after a story!"
A collective "WHAT?!" resounds in the village square.
"I...don't think hearing the story helps our case..." Cado mumbles, speaking up in what seems to be forever. "Can we please...just hear how to exit?"
"No way, Jose! This is vital information! Either you sit through all of it, or you hear none of it at all!" Fukushi insists, pouting like a spoiled child.
"Very well, then!" Zachariah calls out, left with no other options. "Proceed with thy storytelling, strange little feathered demon!"
"I'm not a strange little feathered demon! I'm Fukushi!" the owl cries, correcting the knight before clearing its throat. "A-Anyway! Gather 'round, Characters, for Fukushi will spin you a story! Fukushi shall tell you a tale to end all tales! Fukushi-"
"-should shut up and get to the point already!" Michael shouts from the back of the crowd of Elites. He sniggers immaturely when the owl shoots him a warning glance.
"Like I was saying, I will now tell you the Story of the Six Heroes!" Fukushi says cheerily. "Once upon a time, a group of children were abducted and whisked far, far away by a figure known as the Great Witch. She told the kidnapped children that if they wished to leave their confines and see the outside world again, they were to kill another and not get caught by the others.
"At first, they denied their true natures, the innate darkness that resided in each of them. The kids did not want to believe that they were capable of great evil. But slowly, one by one, the children perished until there were naught but six left standing.
"'We can't let any more of our friends die,' said one child, eyes glimmering with hope. 'We must stand together and defeat the Great Witch.'
"And so, following the hopeful child's lead, the six children fought will all their might. The Great Witch sneered at their efforts to combat her. Thus, the fighting raged on for some time. Back and forth, back and forth.
"Then, out of the ashes...
"...rose the six victors.
"'We've done it," said the Hopeful Child, 'We've defeated the Great Witch! We're free!'
"But that was not the end of it.
"Upon returning to their ordinary world, the children discovered a realm of death and despair. The Great Witch had cast a curse upon the land, causing a terrible Tragedy to befall mankind. To this day, the curse remains, and has yet to be broken.
"And that is where you Characters come in!" Fukushi concludes, meeting each and every one of our blank stares with a gleeful, enthusiastic expression. I realize that the story is eerily similar to the one Endo had told me about the water fountain. The same images had appeared in the bathhouse too...
"Um, pardon me, Fukushi, sir..." Thomas says slowly, "but how does this involve us at all?"
"I'm just about to get to that part!" Fukushi cries, flapping its wings wildly. "Yeesh, kids these days are so impatient! Gotta have high speed everything, from food and wi-fi to cars and sexual intercourse-"
"GET TO THE POINT!" the Elites cry in unison, sending Fukushi flying back in shock.
"Y-Yes, yes! I get it!" the owl sputters. Either it enjoys going on pointless tangents, or it simply doesn't realize that it goes on tangents at all. "As I was saying, even as the Narrator, I do not have the power to overcome the Curse that the Great Witch has cast upon this Story. If I did, you would already be free!
"You sixteen were selected and brought here because you have the potential to break the Curse. But fear not, children! If the Great Witch is defeated, the Curse upon the Story will be lifted, and you will be able to leave!"
"I don't get all that Curse mumbo-jumbo, but basically what you're sayin' is that all we gotta do is fight someone to get out, right?" Johanna repeats, a wicked grin forming on her face. "Alright, then! Lemme at'em!"
"Me too!" Mana chimes in, stepping beside the Elite Boxer. "I wanna get outta this place."
"Nonsense!" Zachariah cries, shaking his head at Johanna and Mana. "I volunteer myself for this task! I believe I have the most combat experience of any of us present-and if anyone is to be harmed or injured, it should be I!"
"Ah...well, I don't like fighting very much, but if it helps my friends, then count me in," Ricard adds, popping up next to the knight. "I'll try not to get in your way, Zach."
"Much appreciated, Sir Ri-"
"No, no, no! That's not how it works!" Fukushi points out, unamused with the students suddenly stepping up for battle. "The original Great Witch is long since dead, but her influence-that is to say, the remnants of her Magic-still remains in this land! You cannot hope to combat Magic and win! That is a foolish death wish!"
"What?!" Zachariah bellows in alarm. "Then how dost thou propose we defeat such a monstrosity?!"
"You must slay the Great Witch's Familiar, the spiritual amalgamation of her Magic prowess! It lurks somewhere in the Woods!"
"Then what are we waiting for?!" Zachariah demands, about to explode from standing still for a prolonged period of time. "Let me face this Familiar beast! I shall swiftly smite the-ouch!"
The knight is cut off abruptly when Fukushi decides to launch itself at his head, thereby headbutting Zachariah mid-speech.
"We're you listening to me at all, Mister Garmont?!" the owl huffs, proceeding to roost on the Courageous Elite's head. "In RPG terms, you cannot hope to even deal a single point of damage to the Great Witch's Familiar as you are now! You're all still Level 1 Characters, not even close to being true Heroes!"
"The more the dearie talks, the less I understand..." Priscilla mutters to herself.
"Okay, Owl Man, hold up. Keep going with that RPG analogy for a sec," Jaxon suggests, scratching his head of red hair. "So if this Familiar thing is like the final boss of a game, how would we be able to get strong enough to actually fight it?"
"I'm glad you asked! You simply need to prove your heroism!" Fukushi says, beaming. "Within the guild, there's a big bulletin board on the first floor. That's called the Quest Board. Missions-or Quests, as I like to call them-will be posted, and you children will be free to take on any of them as you see fit, whether individually or as groups.
"Quests can be anything-any task at all-and the difficulty of the Quest determines how much Experience you reap upon completion. Still, no matter how mundane the Quest, each is likely to help you grow and develop as a Character. And hoo knows, hm? Perhaps you will be rewarded with other treasures along the way!
"For now I'd advise that you children carry out Quests within the safety of the Village. You see, Halkyonia has a protection charm placed over it, so the Familiar may not enter. If you wander into the Woods, it will eventually hunt you down! Once you complete more harrowing Quests, you may stray a bit from the Village, but not too far.
"When you have accumulated enough Experience, you will Level Up and sometimes unlock new things. You achieve Hero status when you max out your Level, which should be five out of five. Anyone may check their current Level by consulting their Enchanted Scrolls!"
"Enchanted...what?" Lance demands, making a sour face. Of course he has to cut in and make a cruel comment. "Sounds super girly and lame."
"Lame, lame, laaaaame!" Mustachio Pete choruses after its master.
"Oh, sorry!" Fukushi apologizes frantically, realizing his error. "I meant E-Scrolls! The E stands for Enchanted, you see!"
Enchanted? Is that the talking owl's explanation for the words magically distorting? And those cottages with the signs...we need to complete Quests to unlock them? Is that it? All the surreal instructions leaving Fukushi's beak are getting confusing.
"Ah, and speaking of your E-Scrolls..." Fukushi flaps over and lands on Thomas's head. "Thank you for doing me the favor of distributing them to your fellow Characters!"
"Oh, er...no problem." Thomas answers awkwardly, not quite sure how to respond to a talking owl sitting on him.
"Alright, now where was I? Oh, yes! The Familiar feeds off of human despair, so by developing your own strengths and building up your hopes with Quests, you get closer and closer to slaying what remains of the Great Witch!"
"Th-That's quite convoluted..." Ellanora mumbles unenthusiastically.
"Oh, don't think like that, my child!" Fukushi insists, hopping off of Thomas and beginning to flap in circles around the statistician. She freezes on the spot, fearfully watching Fukushi encircle her. "Your Narrator will be here to guide you along the way!
"Now everyone, please take out your E-Scrolls and look over the Laws of Storytelling!" Fukushi commands, finally perching on the water fountain again. The way the owl phrases it, it is less of a command and more of a light hearted suggestion. "The E-Scroll summarizes everything I've just told you children, along with a few additional rules to keep you safe!
"Until the Familiar is ousted, you children are free to treat Halkyonia as though it were your own home. The original villagers have left it behind in search of a land not burdened by Magic. There are plenty of supplies and lots to explore here, so you shouldn't be bored.
"Oh, but it looks like it's almost bed time for you kiddies. You'd best be headed to the guild soon for a good night's sleep."
The sun has begun to set, casting dark shadows over the village square and while bathing us in the light of a dying day. An uncomfortable silence passes through the village. Reluctantly, every Elite does as Fukushi says, taking out their scrolls of parchment and unfurling them. Again, new words have formed on the page in golden lettering.
The Laws of Storytelling are as follows:
1. All Characters must reside within the Village or its surrounding area, the Woods. It is recommended that Characters only venture into the Woods if necessary. Their safety is not guaranteed unless they remain on Village grounds. Characters are, however, allowed to explore at their own discretion.
2. Night time is from 10 pm to 7 am. Some areas and buildings will be inaccessible to Characters at night.
3. The E-Scroll (short for Enchanted Scroll, for the curious children out there) must be kept on a Character's being at all times. It is an important part of your Village life and will frequently update with information.
4. Sleeping anywhere other than the Character Guild will be viewed as Deviating from the Story and will result in punishment.
5. Destroying property and breaking into locked facilities is frowned upon, and will also result in punishment.
6. Violence against the Narrator, Fukushi, is strictly prohibited.
7. Characters may not leave the Story until they have achieved full Hero status and slain the Familiar. The Curse will then be lifted, and all will be well.
8. Hero status is achieved by completing Quests, which can be found on the bulletin board in the guild. Characters may complete Quests either individually or in groups. Depending on the Quest difficulty, the Experience earned will vary. Once a Character has accumulated enough Experience to reach Level 5, he or she is deemed a Hero and will be eligible to battle the Familiar.
9. Only when the Familiar is slain and the Curse is lifted will Characters be able to leave the Story.
10. Additional Storytelling laws may be added as necessary.
Have a happily ever after!
"...Something doesn't look quite right here.
"...Shit. Someone tampered with...Ahhh...curses! How bothersome! Maybe if I try to retract the previous commands...
"What the...it's not working?! But why?! That's not supposed to be in the Story!
"I see...it's that person's doing...trying to flip the Script in their favor.
"Well...there is one thing I can do at this point. But...I promised them I wouldn't mess with the Story...and yet, if I don't, I'm going to have a serious problem on my hands...
"I need to do this. It might cause issues among the Characters, but...this is all I can do to avoid a Bad End for them.
"...Forgive me, for I have unleashed the beast."
Hello, Danganronpa fans! =7= Whew! This chapter was a LONG one! And I finally get to introduce Fukushi, who is more of a Usami character than a Monokuma one!
Fukushi's name is derived from the Japanese word for owl (fukurō or フクロウ) and the word for mysterious or strange (fushigi or ふしぎ). It may not make sense now since all the characters aren't Japanese, but I promise it will make sense in the long run.
As you can see, the story mechanics are much different than what is presented in the Danganronpa games, but don't worry! Corpses, investigations, and trials are guaranteed; they will just be introduced in a different fashion than usual. For now, the kids will have a peaceful fairy tale life of mutual questing! Well, at least until everything starts to go horribly, horribly wrong...
With the characters now introduced, I now have all of them as available selections for the "favorite character(s)" poll on my profile page. Please go fill that out to help me determine who will get free time events with Estelle! And don't worry, you WILL get to see her baking episode with Lance and Priscilla! ;P
Anyway, hope you enjoyed, and see you next chapter!